Easy as Pie
by prettypinkey2
Summary: Short Supernatural fanfic mostly revolving around Dean's love of pie, as inspired by a Tumblr prompt. Rated T for mild romance. Spoilers for up to season 3! This story takes place between the season 2 finale and first episode of season 3, and yes the chapters are different flavors of pie c: Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1-Apple Pie

**A/N 1: Hey guys! Pinkey here! Happy Supernatural Day! Now, I know I said my next story would be another Thaluke fic, but then my sister and I started watching Supernatural on Netflix (currently on season 8!) and well, I'm sure if you clicked here, you know what happened next, and what better day to debut the first chapter than Supernatural Day?! So here's a short (up to 10 chapters, probably?) SPN story based on a Tumblr prompt about Dean, pie, and a diner! You probably know the one :D** **Spoilers for up to season 3! This story takes place between the season 2 finale and first episode of season 3~ Enjoy!**

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Early October was always Melody's favorite time of year. It meant loose sweaters, cute winter boots, beanies and matching scarves to keep her curly auburn hair tame, and more. But most importantly, it meant hot cocoa paired with her grandmother's homemade apple pie. A simple American classic, she knew, but there really was something about the "secret ingredients" (Nana always said it was love and hard work) that put it over the top.

Melody's Nana Weiss (everyone just called her Nana) had won several annual awards in the town's fall festival for her pies. The celebrations were generally a tourist trap that Melody avoided at all costs, save for the day that the local pie baking competition was judged. It was a tradition that she shared with her grandmother, joining her that day each year to visit the fair's numerous vendors (especially to grab a funnel cake to split between them to satisfy their genetic sweet tooth), and cheering her on when Nana Weiss's pie took home another taste test medal.

In addition to the fair, which was coming up in a matter of days and had Nana Weiss holed up at home perfecting her soon-to-be-featured baked goods, Nana Weiss's pies were the pastry of fame in the local diner. It wasn't an extravagant diner, but it wasn't ramshackle or worn down. Like many of the other landmarks in town, it was simply charming. And covered with cliche patterns and furniture. Melody worked the register half of the week, and knew from first-hand experience that her grandmother's dessert was nearly always out of stock before noon (save for the extra pie Nana Weiss stashed in the fridge for the staff). And the diner didn't even open until nine.

Crisp winter air clung to her skin and recoiled before her lips and nose as she breathed, hurrying into the diner that most would overlook as they pass by on the highway. Quite unlike herself, Melody was late. She shuffled past the tables and the row of raised stools at the bar on her way to the kitchen, searching for her apron. Only a few tables were occupied, and for that she was glad. She wouldn't have to get an earful from the manager, James. In Melody's opinion, the man was less qualified for the job than a pencil. But that didn't mean she felt like picking a fight about her tardiness.

After securing her apron around her waist and finding a new pad and pen to take orders with, Melody re-emerged from the kitchens and began her daily task of bussing tables and suggesting her favorite menu items to those who were particularly indecisive. Not to mention she served up a collective sum of six apple pies for dessert, her sticky fingers serving as a metaphorical gold star for persuasive sales technique.

"Take a break, Mel. I think you've more than earned it," Greta praised some time past one. Melody smiled at her blond-haired friend and co-worker, tucking back a loose coil of her own hair, which had escaped her bun sometime in the last hour. She glanced at the diner clock, an antique thing decorated around the edges with neon signage. It was almost noon. She would certainly need a break before the lunch rush. Nodding, she untied and folded up her apron, thanking Greta for the reminder.

Making a light lunch of a bowl of tomato soup, Melody carried the dish out to the bar in the diner's main area. She secured a place at the small bar counter that jutted out from the kitchen to eat. She hardly spared a glance at the other patrons of the restaurant on her way, sitting with a sigh as the pressure of standing was relieved from her feet. She ate quickly despite the full half hour she was granted for her break.

Greta leaned against the bar counter, wiping at thrice cleaned surface to avoid the actual chores she was meant to be doing on her shift.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Melody teased, earning an exposed pink tongue from Greta's painted lips. She smirked. "Well, get to it. Make yourself useful and get me some pie." She ducked her head as Greta threatened to swat her with her hand towel. When Greta looked up an raised an eyebrow, Melody knew why without having to turn back and see for herself.

The bell above the diner door chimed as some new patrons entered the building. Melody heard Greta whistle lowly behind the counter. "Mmm."

Melody's eyebrows scrunched together and she just shook her head with a grin, looking down at her empty bowl of soup. Greta had a habit of being highly distracted by the more...attractive...customers, and today proved to be no different. When Melody looked up, Greta was gone. She reappeared after a moment with a slice from the staff pie and a fork, wagging it at Melody with an unspoken warning. Melody winked in response with a soft laugh before Greta ducked back into the kitchens.

She had just pierced the pie crust with the fork tines when to her right, she heard a rustling sound and a receiving grunt.

Following the grunt was a low whisper. "Dean, _no_. Leave the girl _alone_." The scolding was followed by a second, annoyed, grunt and silence. And then, a tap on her shoulder.

Melody turned her head to find herself staring into captivating green eyes. She blinked as she leaned back, putting some more space between her and the stranger leaning against the counter in the seat next to her, clad in dark clothes and an aged leather jacket. It was probably sentimental, considering the obvious looked-after condition for an item of its age. A five o'clock graced the stranger's jawline, his hair cropped short and carelessly styled. His name must have been Dean, according to the complaint of the man on his other side.

In contrast, his companion was younger looking, and the opposite to Dean in nearly every manner. Tall and somewhat lanky where Dean was, well, butch. A clean shaven face, wily hair grown out and reaching for the nape of his neck. Stern-faced with worry lines etched into his forehead while Dean had the ghosts of laugh lines splayed out at the corners of his eyes.

Melody took the strangers in with a few surprised blinks, searching for a category to describe the pair. Troublemakers was her gut reaction. "Can I help you fellas?" she asked, an eyebrow quirked.

"Tell me, does there happen to be any more of that pie left?"

The man called Dean blinked with a stupid grin on his face. He was charming, but definitely trouble. Despite her fascination with attractive customers, even Greta might have said no and walked away. Melody, however, considered her options. She was curious just how far his facade went. She speared another piece of pie onto her fork and smirked at him while she let his question linger, taking the time to enjoy her bite.

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 _[To be continued]_

 **Please follow and review!**


	2. Chapter 2-Boston Cream Pie

**A/N 2: Hey guys! Who's excited for the premiere of season 13 tonight?! I'll be watching in spirit since I'm not yet caught up! But to celebrate, here's chapter 2! This story is likely going to continue to have _monthly_ updates to cope with my other obligations, just a heads up** **~ Enjoy!**

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"Maybe," she finally responded. "How much do you want it, stranger?"

The man before her just chuckled, casting a quick glance to the man on his other side before flashing a grin. "Dean. Please. And would it appear any quicker if I said I wanted it _really_ bad?"

Melody hummed in thought. "Okay, _Dean_. Express service is going to cost you. But you're lucky my break is over," she said, sliding off the stool with a wink. The least she could do was oblige the handsome man, experience telling her to expect a decent enough tip from the likes of him. Taking her pie slice with her to save for later, Melody slipped around the corner and retreated into the kitchen where Greta leaned with a smirk.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Greta taunted as Melody served up a slice of the staff pie for Dean. Melody pointed the knife at her warningly, although she was smiling as she did so. With a bump from her hip, she reemerged into the diner's bar, now facing Dean and his companion from across the counter.

"You boys sticking around?" Melody said with a friendly smile as she served the pie to a very happy Dean. She awaited their answer, allowing herself the pleasure of polite conversation since the restaurant wasn't bustling with the lunch rush just yet. Or so she told herself.

"As a matter of fact, yes. We'll be in town a few days," Dean mumbled around a substantial mouthful of pie. The man sure liked his pie.

"Well, then. How about some proper introductions. I'm Melody. But everyone calls me Mel." Melody gave them an amiable grin as she extended her hand to each of the men in turn.

"Sam Winchester. Pleasure to meet you, Mel," said Dean's companion politely. Melody nodded and smiled. She glanced between the two thoughtfully.

"Brothers," she guessed, an eyebrow quirked upward in inquiry. Nobody bickered the way they had earlier unless they were related or happily married for more than a few decades.

Dean huffed a short laugh. "You're good," he praised her.

"I have my specialties," Melody responded with another short wink. She tried hard not to ask him to slow down as he shoveled down the pie like it was his last meal. "So Dean, Sam. What brings you to this fine town? Surely not the festival?" Melody asked them, leaning against the counter and crossing one ankle over the other behind her.

"Festival?" Dean inquired as he tugged at an itch on his ear.

"Yeah, town's fall festival. I've been going to it since I was born. Just about the biggest celebration that happens around here, but it's nothing more than a glorified harvest celebration and pumpkin patch," Melody began with a practiced, nonchalant shrug as she described the event to the brothers.

Dean exhaled a short burst of air, almost a surprised chuckle as Melody spun quite a nostalgic fantasy about the contents of the festival. She thought he nearly forgot about the slice of pie beneath his very nose, if only for a short moment before he shoveled another morsel and put it away. He seemed truly interested in the celebrations that were setting up shop in the town square and park grounds. Interest and excitement were emotions Melody had worn through after she turned nine, no thanks to her obligatory attendance at the festival each year.

"That was _really_ good," Dean mumbled around the final mouthful of apple pie with a pleased moan. He set down his fork upon a plate dotted with meager crumbs. Melody rose an eyebrow at how quickly the pie had winked out of existence, and half wondered if he might scoop up the crumbs as well.

"If you liked it here, I'm sure Nana would appreciate your votes at the festival," Melody said with a giggle. Subconsciously she twisted a strand of her hair around her fingers, and froze her actions when she felt both brothers suddenly watching her with interest. Interest in her words or her actions, she couldn't tell. But she could probably guess. The taller brother cleared his threat and shifted in his seat first.

"How do you mean?" Sam asked, breaking the curious silence first with his question, his eyebrows scrunching together in a cute fashion.

"Why, the contests of course. Most popular events at the festival. Pie judging and pie eating contests," Melody explained, blinking at them with curiosity of her own.

As she studied the boys, Dean nearly slipped from his seat at the news, he was so excited. His eyes mooned comically like a child hearing their parents agree to adopting a puppy, and Melody bit her lip to keep down another giggle. Sam looked as though he were about to protest but thought better of it when he couldn't find the words to say, his mouth gaping before quickly falling shut.

"You had me at _pie eating contests_. Where do I sign up?" Dean grinned. Melody could have sworn his pupils dilated. She laughed despite all of her intentions and efforts to the contrary.

"He ah, really likes pie," Sam said, coughing down a laugh and grin of his own. Dean only shrugged shamelessly.

"I see that. Lucky for you, I've got all the information you need right here." Melody tapped the crown of her head to solidify the point, smirking. She indicated for the guys to wait for her while she returned to the kitchen to retrieve a flyer for the festival and a pen.

"This has all you should need to know, but if you have any other questions, let me know. 'Kay?" Melody slid the paper across the counter, autographed with her name and cell phone number, capping her pen as she looked between the brothers.

"Thanks Mel," Dean told her with a charming smile. He unfolded some paper bills from his wallet before tucking the flyer and the wallet back into his coat as he shrugged it on over his shoulders. Melody thought she saw him wink over his shoulder as he followed his brother out. As the door clicked shut behind them, Greta came up beside her and sighed softly, a wide grin spreading across her lips, her arms folded on the counter as she leaned against it. Clearly, she had been watching and listening to the entire ordeal from just behind the kitchen door.

"Mmm. I don't know how I'll survive if I don't see that tall drink of water in here again," Greta mused, shaking her head. Melody swatted her shoulder with the towel usually tucked into her waist.

Melody couldn't really complain, though. She was already thinking about the next time she'd run into the tall drink of water's older brother.

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 _[To be continued]_

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	3. Chapter 3-Cherry Pie

**A/N 3: Changing things up a bit this time, including chapter length and POV! So technically this isn't even "chapter 3"; consider it the first "interlude". This story is likely going to continue to have _monthly_ updates to cope with my other obligations, just a heads up** **~ Enjoy!**

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"You're sure about this?"

Dean eyed his younger brother skeptically as he unpacked his duffel bag's contents into a drawer. The motel that was about to become their home for the next week was adequate and average, but above par as compared to their usual finds.

"Yeah, man. I'm not about to get between you and a pie festival." Sam huffed out a laugh at the ludicrous nature of the argument. Dean couldn't help but agree.

"That's...kind of you," Dean said, and cast his younger brother a skeptical look. Not that he minded Sam's kindness - it was a refreshing change from his condescending or concerned natures - but it was also an obvious contrast to their usual bickering.

"Of course. Look, there's no harm in taking a little break. We don't have a case yet, and...the clock's ticking," Sam said, dancing around the subject lightly. They didn't need words or a reminder of the countdown from Hell looming over Dean's head. Dean's eyebrow and lip twitched simultaneously but he nodded. "We'll just take things easy."

"Easy as... _pie_?" Dean grinned widely at the weak pun. Sam didn't even react, save for a very unamused shake of his head.

"I think I left something in the car," Sam mumbled, snatching the Impala's keys off the small side table as he turned the door knob and disappeared into the afternoon light.

"Aw, come on. It was funny, you know it!" Dean called after him.

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"Hey Dean, I might have found something," Sam said around a mouthful of takeout that evening. He turned the laptop screen to face his older brother. Splashed across the screen was an obituary passage on the town's local newspaper.

Dean squinted as he minimally examined the article pulled up on the screen. "So what?" he asked, stuffing his mouth with more lo mein.

"So what? Dean, this page is dated two days ago. In this town. It seems like our kind of gig," Sam said as he scrolled through the article and sought anything else that had happened recently and could be related to it.

Dean motioned for Sam to turn the screen back around to him for a second look. "Huh. So we'll just stop by the sheriff's department in the morning and see if we can't find anything fishy," he said with a shrug. He dismissed his brother's usual worrisome expression and took another swig of the beer accompanying his takeout.

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Bright and early the following morning, the Impala doors squealed in complaint as they swung open and closed in quick succession. The Winchester brothers strolled into the main building of the sheriff's department, dressed in the threads they reserved for a more high profile facade. In this instance, FBI agents investigating the obit case.

"What can you tell me about the vic? Mr...Ivan Mueller?" Dean asked a half hour later, accompanied by Sam and the town mortician. They'd been granted access to the victim's body. As the mortician explained, Dean examined his file. He was an average but well known man around town. Mid fifties, unmarried, average income. All around nice guy. No suspicious background or criminal record. Not even a parking ticket.

"Shame he went like this. Worst part is...well...poor fella's heart is missing," the mortician concluded. As he spoke, Sam revealed a suspicious chest cavity, the man's flesh marred with more than a few grisly lacerations. He and Dean exchanged a pointed scowl. "Any theories, boys? Sheriff's best guess is bear attack, but Ivan was never the kind to go wandering in the woods. Y'know?"

"Oh, we've got a few. None of them good," Sam replied with a grimace as he covered the body back over with a white sheet, indicating to the mortician that they'd seen enough of what was left of Ivan Mueller. When the mortician bowed out, Sam turned to Dean, who could already guess what his younger brother was about to say. "Seems like we got ourselves a big bad wolf on the loose," Sam suggested with an exhale.

"So... _not_ easy as pie?"

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 _[To be continued]_

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	4. Chapter 4-Derby Pie

**A/N 4: Back to the OC perspective here, hope you guys enjoy! I love reading reviews so feel free to send them my way! c: This story is likely going to continue to have _monthly_ updates to cope with my other obligations, just a heads up** **~ Enjoy!**

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Already looming with dark, glistening silver clouds poised to shed snowflakes over the town, the autumn sky was a boring wash of grey. It had been that way for the better part of a week, so it was nothing new. And yet, as she strode quickly across the damp sidewalk to the diner, Melody sensed something _different_ about the sky. About the leaf-bare trees, the dead and frozen grass poking out over a thin layer of frost and ice from the previous night's late-autumn, early-winter snowfall. About the town residents shuffling by with bowed heads to escape the chilly winds that teased the hair out from under Melody's scarf. Ever since yesterday, when the Winchester brothers first came into town. She was hopeful, too. Hopeful that they'd return to the diner for a meal, or a chat, or both. But in a rinky-dink town like the one she had resided in her whole life, Melody knew better than to let her hopes rise too high, lest she bruise her ego and pride and wishful spirit. There were many better sights to be seen in the bigger cities a few hours out in any direction.

The bell above the diner chimed brightly as she pushed her way in. When she finally pulled the door shut, against the will of the gust of wind trying to play tug-of-war, Melody shed a few tiny icicles from her boots onto the entrance rug. Once she was satisfied that she wouldn't leave puddles behind, she greeted her friend and coworker at the back to get the diner ready to serve breakfast to the town.

"Tell you what, it's going to be a long couple of hours," Greta said with a _hmph_ as Melody tied her apron around her waist. Clearly the same thoughts racing and tugging at Melody's active imagination were at work within Greta's own head.

Melody gave her a short, hardly-amused laugh in reply. But Greta was right. Their morning chores would go by slower than ever until the usual crowd (and hopefully a certain pair of new faces) rolled in.

She didn't even notice them the first time she passed by. Hidden behind their menus and brooding expressions, Melody didn't recognize Dean or his brother conversing in hushed tones until she reached the table by habit to take down their meal order.

"What can I get started for-well if it isn't the pie aficionado and the brother who puts up with him," she said, a smile sliding across her lips. "Coffee?" She held up the carafe in her hand, tucking away her notepad and pen for the moment inside the folds of her apron.

As she filled their mugs, she couldn't help her curiosity. "Well, seems as though nobody scared you boys off. Really are here for the festival, then?" she inquired with arched eyebrows. It was Dean who responded while Sam sipped his coffee.

"Uh, yeah. That and the pie, of course," Dean said bluntly, giving her another charming smile. She had a feeling he weaseled his way into _and_ out of trouble with that grin.

"Wouldn't miss it. Can't wait," Sam replied with a milder enthusiasm. It wasn't hard to see that staying for the festival was Dean's desire, and Sam was just along for the ride. It was nice of him, Melody thought. She hadn't met too many siblings that close. She scoffed a laugh.

"Right. Well in that case, can't have you boys on an empty stomach. What can I get for you?" Melody asked them, retrieving the pad and pen from the folds of her apron.

Three plates, eight pancakes, ten slices of bacon, two slices of buttered toast, and four sunny-side-up eggs later, Melody returned to the Winchesters' table with the check.

"I suppose it would be rude of me not to offer you boys an escort for the festival," Melody began with a sugary-sweet smile. "Someone who knows the town to...show you the full festival experience."

Dean nodded immediately, and Melody didn't miss the less-than-subtle expression in his eyes. Neither did Sam, snorting into his mug of coffee before proceeding to glare at his brother and likely kicked at his knee from beneath the table's surface, given Dean's immediate jerked reaction.

"Back in a mo'," Melody told them with a wink, repressing a dramatic roll of her eyes as she turned on her heel and retreated to the kitchen to find Greta. She smirked at the confusion that swept across Dean's previously smug facade.

"You _what_?"

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun," Melody pleaded, batting her eyes.

"Last I checked, you didn't even *like* the festival. And now you've volunteered us as tour guides?" Clearly, Greta wasn't impressed with the offer from the disdain laced through her comment.

"You didn't even let me tell you who for," Melody rebuked, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk. "Guess."

Greta's manicured eyebrows nearly left the surface of her pale forehead, they rose so high. "No," she breathed in disbelief. She rushed to the peep window from the kitchen to the bar counter, searching for the familiar faces from that morning. She squeaked as she wheeled to face Melody again, her blond ponytail bobbing over her shoulder.

"Why didn't you _say_ so? What are you waiting for, get me _out_ there!"

Melody giggled and shook her head as she took Greta's hand and led her out of the kitchen. They'd have to make things quick, she noted, as she caught a curious glance from their manager who had just walked in for the morning.

"Sam, Dean, this is Greta, my coworker and best friend. What do you say we make this festival a double date?" she offered unabashedly, beaming at the brothers while Greta grinned sheepishly.

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 _[To be continued]_

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	5. Chapter 5-Eclair Pie

**A/N 5: Second "interlude" chapter! This takes place before the double date! Just a reminder that this story has monthly updates~ Enjoy!**

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Shaking the paper bag containing the contents of their dinner, Sam announced his presence to his older brother, who looked up expectantly from over the edge of his laptop. While the younger Winchester had been demoted to delivery boy, Dean had been conducting any additional research they could find on the murder of Ivan Mueller. "Anything?"

"Nothing yet. But this doesn't seem like an isolated incident. My gut's telling me we just got here earlier than we're used to," Dean explained, lowering the screen of his laptop and sliding it to the edge of the table with one hand while he reached for a burger out of the paper bag with his other.

"Wouldn't that be nice, stopping a werewolf before it made a mess of the town," Sam pondered with a sigh, popping the lids off of two beers and pushing one in his brother's direction as he sat down across from him. The brothers fell into a contemplative and nearly optimistic silence as they devoured their dinners.

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"Hold on, here's something." Sam looked up to find his brother's whereabouts, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the unlit motel room that contrasted so severely with the laptop screen resting on his knees. "Looks like a local kid went missing a while back. Missing, not dead. Could be our wolf boy."

Dean emerged from the bathroom, hand towel slung over his shoulder and water beading at the edges of his face, to inspect Sam's discovery.

"So? Teenagers run away from home all the time," Dean said dismissively, giving his brother a pointed look indicating an argument that came up too often between them. Sam's mouth gaped like a fish for a moment as he contemplated striking up his side of the argument, but Dean cut him off before he could make his rebuke vocal.

"Might as well check it out. If we're going to beat him before he kills again, we can't overlook any details."

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Dean couldn't help but let his eyes follow the outline of his Baby from front bumper to rear as they walked up to the vehicle as it was parked on the street. It didn't hurt that it had been raining on their drive through town early that morning, and the immaculately looked after vehicle appeared as though it had emerged from the borders of a technicolor Polaroid, raindrops still beaded on the waxed chassis.

"Well it looks like we've got our first suspect," Sam said with a sigh, although the words were spoken optimistically. It was a difficult balance, their job, between the excitement of catching a lead and the realization of what they would have to do to fix the problem.

The Impala's door squealed lightly when Dean opened it to get in, as if the vehicle were also excited to have a lead to follow. "But first, I need some more pie."

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Just a week after his seventeenth birthday, Tommy Row had disappeared out of the blue. There were no motives that would have led the Winchesters to dismiss his disappearance as simply the antics of an angsty teen. Tommy had been a good kid from a good family. His mother had been suspicious of his friends, but none of them had gone missing. Only Tommy. When Mrs. Row had told the brothers this, they had shared a curious expression. Had Tommy been acting alone, or was his disappearance something being kept hush-hush by his "friends"? Their deadline was running shorter and shorter.

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 _[To be continued]_

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	6. Chapter 6-Flapper Pie

**A/N 6: Back to the main story now~ SUPER sorry for the hiatus you guys, life got real crazy, and then FF had some issues with letting me login *shrug*. Not sure I can make monthly updates, so the story will just progress as I find time to continue/conclude it. So for now, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

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Melody adjusted her ponytail again out of nerves, and she stuck her tongue out at Greta, who lounged on one of the diner's bar-service seats, giggling at Melody. A stark contrast to Melody's jittery disposition, Greta gave no indication of nerves, excitement, or otherwise. She was practically stoic, but struck quite an appearance in her festival get-up.

Melody had settled for a cozy, practical assembly of a sweater and dark, fitted jeans. She'd accessorized with a scarf and a pair of leather boots to keep her warm. Greta had added a country flair to her outfit. Not only had she picked out a flannel top with a low neckline and tight jeans, but she wore a pair of like-new cowboy boots (reserved only for occasions in which she could show off their flashy pattern, not for actual riding) and a thick bandanna in place of a scarf.

"It's just the festival, Mel." Greta chided her friend affectionately. Her tone lent itself to an indifference that betrayed the excitement now gleaming in her eyes as the double date drew nearer. Melody just quirked an eyebrow, keeping her mouth shut about Greta's carefully chosen holiday ensemble. Instead, she stole another glance at the diner door, at least the fifth time in the last half hour.

The Winchesters would be arriving any moment now, provided they didn't have a habit of being late. Almost everyone else in this town carried that habit, seeing as there wasn't much to be in a hurry for. The fall festival and chilly weather was one of few excuses for a sudden shift in attitudes and the hustle-and-bustle that followed which had both of the girls eager to show their visitors around on the first evening of activities.

The bell above the door trilled and both Melody and Greta looked up expectantly as the Winchesters strolled in. Dean gave them a half wave as he came up to the bar, leaning against an elbow. Sam stood beside him.

"You girls look nice," Dean acknowledged as his eyes subtly roved over each of their outfits. "Ready to go?" he asked as his eyes met Melody's once more.

Melody nodded. "Yep," she said with a warm smile, and Greta's head bobbed in agreement beside her friend. "After you, boys," Melody prompted as she stepped out from behind the bar.

As the Impala rolled up to the town park where the festivities were being held for the week, Melody's earlier indifference to it was easily buried beneath a nostalgic cheerfulness. It was just as she remembered it, and yet also quite different.

The trees were wrapped in warm yellow-white bulbs, twinkling in quick succession. Even the leaves still stubbornly clinging to the tree branches were bright in hue, reflecting fading sunlight of the evening. The occasional apple, scarecrow or over-sized colored leaf decoration was strung from the lower branches of trees, twirling as the wind swept then up in an invisible current, only to be set loose a moment later. The scarecrows hanging from trees had always seemed a bit to macabre to Melody, but nobody else seemed to have picked up on the notion.

The festival's entrance was marked by a large, gnarly, ivy-coated archway. Like the trees, this too was decorated, plaid farmer-style ribbons and glistening lights adding to the festive atmosphere. Holiday music lilted into the air, emitted from speakers hidden beneath the ivy. In a town like this, there was no such rule prohibiting holiday music until after Thanksgiving. Early fall was soon enough.

"Oh, isn't it adorable?" Greta exclaimed lightly, drinking in the spectacle. She too had lost her calm facade. Melody hummed a note of agreement, still caught up in memories of dancing with Nana Weiss under the ivy arch and playing hide and seek among the trees and the litter their colorful leaves left behind. The Winchesters carried mixed expressions upon their faces, both amused and hesitant to what they had walked into.

The sleek black vehicle's doors squeaked in protest when the four inhabitants found a parking space not too far from the entrance and walked into the gathering throng of families and eager dates.

"C'mere, I've got something to show you," Mel told Dean, grabbing the fabric of his coat around his arm and tugging him to the left. The older brother spared a glance at his brother, who was engrossed in a conversation with Greta, before allowing Melody to lead him away. They soon came upon a barn, the entrance heralded by baskets of large, shiny apples of all shades of red, gold, and green.

"You said you like pie, right? I _might_ have signed you up to guest judge the baking contest," Melody explained sheepishly when Dean, quite confused, faced her. There was a question silently perched at the edge of his parted mouth. His confusion swiftly morphed anew, a very eager grin pulling at his lips. He fumbled for words, selling for a very grateful thank you. He looked between Melody and a makeshift stage that would reveal the contest results.

Melody shrugged of his enthusiasm, although she was pleased to see that she had guessed correctly at his reaction. "It was no big deal, really," she assured him, biting her lip subconsciously. She looked away hastily when his eyes fell upon hers, clearing her throat and the air between them.

"Come on, we've got to get you signed in from the back of the stage," She explained as she led him past the line of spectators awaiting the results of the contest. "Got the last one, Ernie," she said as she patted Dean's shoulder, allowing the other man to introduce Dean to his current task.

Just as she turned on her heel to leave the pie judges, a long, frightened shriek erupted from behind the barn, and was quickly silenced. The echos that followed set goosebumps upon Melody's skin.

"Oh, come on!" wailed a grumbled protest under the breath of the Winchester brother at her back.

* * *

 _[To be continued]_

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